War Bow

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War Bow Page 26

by P. S. Power


  “Gah!”

  Anders stepped out on the path, another arrow pulled already.

  “Gentles. I need for you all to lie on the ground, now. If you attempt to flee, I’ll be forced to kill you.” He didn’t get to bluff them, as half of the men there simply did that without hesitation, running off, as soon as they saw who was there.

  One caught an arrow in the back, which staggered him. Anders pushed his right fist at the back of another of the men and opened it, making him explode with a dull thumping noise, falling, with a large hole in his back and middle. The last one actually escaped into the woods. At least Anders thought that might have been what was happening, until he heard the groan of the man.

  From the sound of things, one of the knights had prevented him from leaving too hastily.

  Anders felt worked up, but made his voice low and as manly as he could manage with his youthful vocal cords.

  “Now, lie on the ground, please. I have some questions for you.”

  The men did that, if a bit slowly. Still, they were bound well enough, when Sir Daniel and Sir Clemence tied them up with a bit of rope. Then, a bit ceremonially, the four men were dragged out onto the road. The one with the arrow wound was crying a bit, but almost silently. Given it was a good lung hit, one that had passed through the man totally, that was understandable.

  Walking over, Anders held out his right hand.

  “I can try to heal that for you. It may not work.” He’d never tried to fix a real wound that way before. He had a spell worked out for it, but there were portions of it that were simply too new. Then, if this man died from it, that wouldn’t truly matter. He was going to do so regardless.

  The fellow nodded though, as Anders stood back, muttering instructions carefully. It took nearly five minutes before he could really start, going slow to make certain he did it correctly, but only about two minutes to actually fix the damage. After a fashion. He couldn’t truly get the body to fix itself as of yet, so was mainly forming scar tissue. Still, the bleeding stopped, the skin sealed over the wound and the breathing mainly eased.

  The man still seemed weak, when he spoke.

  “Why did you shoot me?”

  Anders smiled.

  “Because you ran. I’d asked you not to. Who hired you to put those trees across the road? He had a Yansian accent and was a man, but that’s all I know, so far.”

  Instead of denying that part of things, the man shrugged and took a slightly labored breath. The scar tissue would leave him tight that way, inside his right lung, for the rest of his life, most likely.

  The man made a sour face at him and then shook his head.

  “He didn’t exactly give no proper name. Then, we didn’t ask too much. He had gold and silver and told us that we needed to make the road impassable, through this area, if we could. That if we did, he’d pay double when he came back through in a season. Said he built a new road, further south, so making this one harder to travel for a while will push people to using his new one. He has businesses set up along that other path, I guess.”

  The words didn’t explain why they were working with an obvious Yansian, while they were at war with them, but the other men nodded, agreeing at least that it was the story they were planning to go with that day. After going over things several times, including having Anders go into a trance, to sense their thoughts, Sir Humphrey finally nodded.

  “That sounds likely, then. What you were actually doing was preventing supplies from getting through, from the King. That’s treason. The punishment for that is death.” He seemed ready to make that happen, then and there, which got Anders to wince.

  The older man seemed annoyed, his sword in his hand.

  “You have some other plan, Master Brolly?” The words were dry and sarcastic sounding, as if he expected the child to be weak enough to allow kindness to influence his decisions.

  “Yes. We still have to kill them, but it could be for the crime of damaging the King’s road, not working for the enemy? They took gold to commit a criminal act, but they didn’t know they were doing it to act against the kingdom directly. They were lied to...” He waited then, since it was both a minor enough point and one that could be important.

  A thing not lost on Prince Robarts, who glared at the men and then nodded.

  “Right. Traitors lose everything and their families would be dispossessed. Mere criminals would lose their lives, but their people won’t be driven from their lands and homes. I think we should consider that, since it’s close enough to the truth.” He swallowed then, as if he thought the others would disagree with him on the matter.

  Humphrey just nodded.

  “That’s fine. We’ll report it that way, later.” He moved on the men then, causing some crying out and begging to take place. That didn’t stop him from beheading them, one by one. Anders had to move to help get them into position for it, which, bound or not, meant that the last two men tried to struggle against their fate rather hard. He was clipped on the side of the face well enough that it would leave a bruise. He also caught a boot to the middle, from the last man, which grazed his groin hard enough to cause him to lose his breath.

  It was all he could do not to fall to the ground, clutching himself, as the man died.

  Prince Robarts winced, after the men were all dead.

  “Are you fit to ride, Anders?”

  He was still gasping a bit and bent over, but nodded. Not that he truly felt like sitting on a horse would be a good plan at the moment.

  “I should be fine. Do we bury these men?” He hadn’t really thought about it before, but Sir Daniel shook his head.

  “No. Criminals killed on the road are marked and set alongside of it, as a warning to others not to risk doing such things in the future. It’s rare enough that bandits are taken, but we should see to that.”

  The marking of the criminals was simple enough. Their hands were cut off and their bodies, without heads in most cases, were placed upright, with sharpened stakes jammed inside of them to make them stay partially upright. For the time being. Anders didn’t doubt that the local wildlife would be eating well that evening.

  They rode back to the caravan, which meant that he had time to stop and hunt the wild swine, as well as collect some greens and a full canvas sack of nuts. It would take work to crack and roast them, but he had some time in the evenings, to see to things like that. Not enough time, really, but that was his life now. Anders, the boy, simply shrugged at the idea, after they rode back toward the road, breathing slightly hard, with ten good sized pigs floating behind them. Brownie was fine with that idea, but the other horses seemed to find that kind of thing a bit strange. Still, they settled down after a while, which meant that the bled pigs were stacked on the back of his wagon and in the meat cart, about an hour later.

  That night, the Caravan Master pushed them a bit further, to a nice overnight spot. One past the dead bodies by a good bit. That meant it was dark out when they were setting up, trying to find wood and cook without everything they were used to, like the ability to see. They had water though, which Ery and Faine collected for them in several buckets.

  It was clear that people had been through that area before, recently, since there was almost no fodder for the horses or oxen. The field they were in was hard dirt, with barely enough grass to hold it in place. He had to use magic to get enough for their horses and oxen that night, summoning it from about a half mile away. Then, understanding the situation, he waved to Mary and Betha when they came over.

  “We have ten pigs to see to. I didn’t have a chance to butcher them yet. The rest of the meat is frozen still, so it will keep. I have greens in and we still have some roots left over. I need to see to food for the animals though. That... It’s not going to be easy.” He was exhausted from doing the twenty horses and oxen that his people had with them. Doing the same thing for the entire caravan was a task he did not look forward to.

  Mary noticed that the animals near him were eating already, and then she gla
nced around the area, noticing that none of the others were yet.

  “That’s the important bit. The less we have to dig into the grain we brought for them, the better off we all are. We’ll handle the meal, while you do that. We get cute little Ery to help with that?” She giggled, since the boy was standing not ten feet away, looking at her as if mildly offended by her words.

  Anders nodded.

  “Don’t tease him. He’s going to have to take an extra watch tonight, I think. Besides, he’s bigger than I am, so let’s cut it with the little idea. I don’t want to spend the rest of the trip being tiny Andy, if it’s possible to avoid that now.” He wasn’t that wild about being called Andy at all, truth be told. It didn’t bother Farad that much, but Anders bristled at it a little, each time it was used.

  That got laughter, from both the women, with Mary waving at Ery.

  “Sorry there, Ery. I shouldn’t tease. You’re young, and not too much of that. Plus, a squire, which speaks of high expectations, doesn’t it? Betha here was saying just last night that she should get with child by you, so you’ll be forced to marry her, proper like. That seems a solid plan, since she isn’t actually a whore yet. Not really. Close enough to pure that a good man could marry her, at any rate.”

  The girl blushed and looked away, as Ery coughed a bit. Then he spoke, managing not to seem too unkind about it. After all, while not a high beauty, Betha was only a few years older than Erold was and certainly had all the basic skills of a wife. At least she could cook and had offered to help sew the clothing for the children with them.

  “I suppose that would be a good plan, normally. My wife wouldn’t be pleased with me if I came back with another woman at the end of the trip. I don’t think, at least.” He winced then, since he was giving too much away, mentioning being married like that.

  Boys didn’t normally do that until they were at least sixteen, sometimes older than that. Girls would often marry younger, but normally to older men. Ones that had already established themselves in the world.

  Mary grinned at him then.

  “I didn’t know you had a lady back home. Do all the squires have wives?” She didn’t seem to know that would be uncommon, at least.

  Erold shook his head.

  “No, it was a special matter. A thing arranged by our parents.” Then, thankfully, he stopped talking, before he gave so much away that anyone listening would put things together. After all, a married fourteen-year-old boy, who came from the castle, called Ery, was probably not going to keep his title secret for long.

  Anders distracted them, calling in more fodder to where he was standing, using a decently brief spell for it. Then he walked around the camp, doing it over and over again, ending up standing at the back of the encampment, near the end of the caravan train, where the more broken-down animals and wagons were. Wood had been collected, but several of the ladies there were struggling to get them started, all the dry wood having been taken by the others in the encampment. That meant they didn’t have enough light to see that there was food for the animals yet.

  The horses, oxen and in a few cases goats, started to eat as soon as they had something to chew on, however, which was good enough for him. Walking to one of the would-be fire pits, which was tidily arranged, an older woman used a flint and steel to make sparks, over and over again, he waved a bit. She could see him in the dim light, so nodded back.

  “We’ll have this started, eventually. I should just go and ask for a brand from one of the other fires, but we were told not to bother the high types, if we want to travel with the caravan.” She sighed. “Now, what may I do for you, young sir? I don’t recognize you, do I?”

  Anders didn’t know, of course, but it was dark enough that she might have mistaken him for one of the other boys with them. There were a few in the same age range and even the same size.

  “I’m Anders. Andy the message boy? Anyway, we have fodder for the animals now. They’re already eating. Let me see to the fire here. I can...” He nearly didn’t mention how he planned to do it, but finally shrugged. “I can use magic to dry the wood and start that. I know, magic is all frightening and all that. Except that it really isn’t. Not if it’s just me doing it.” He waited since the woman really did go very still and seemed scared.

  After a moment he just started into work. It didn’t take him too long, but drying the wood first was worth the extra effort. When he held his right hand up, pointed into the stack of wood inside the stone circle, his first and fourth fingers out, with the rest held under his palm, the blaze started rapidly enough. The woman cleared her throat, after catching a face full of smoke.

  “Thanks be unto you, my lord mage. For the fire and that food for the animals. I was worried that they’d be going hungry this night.” She shook a bit, but managed to smile. “Forgive me. I’m being silly. What can I do for you? There should be food, I think. We were told that there were more greens and some pigs coming, for our meal. That part was a surprise. We’d been told to start that we’d probably half starve on the journey, if we didn’t have enough with us for at least half a season. Each night the army men have come and made certain we all have enough. They said that the knights with us got it for us? That the King himself sent a hunter with them, so that we could take food off of his lands, direct like, without being put to death for poaching.” She didn’t sound that certain of the idea, herself.

  Still, it was close enough that Anders was able to nod over it.

  “That’s correct. More to the point, King Mathias didn’t send a special hunter, but he’s allowed us the right to hunt and gather provisions from his woods and along the road as we go. The job of getting the extra food in has mainly been my task. We’re also planning to get some new clothing going for the children and women. The winter will be cold, where we’re going. Some of the knights requested that be seen to for them.”

  The woman looked away then and shook her head.

  “That’s kindness from a place I wouldn’t have expected it, Lord. I can sew a bit, if I have the material? That’s the hard part to see to. Some... They might need new shoes or boots, as well.” She shrank down inside of herself then, as if she were mentioning something that she had no right to.

  Anders moved toward her a bit, then put his hands out, to warm them over the fire, which had caught well enough.

  “I haven’t done that before. Boots. I should be able to work something out that way. We have some leather we can use for it. Nothing like real cloth for the clothing though. I’ll try to work out how to do that, in time. Anyway, I didn’t get your name, miss?”

  There was a chuckle from the older lady then, at him naming her as being so young.

  “Fola Horner. I haven’t been a miss in some time. My husband is with the third division, so I was joining him for the winter. It’s been some time since we’ve been on campaign like this. It was easier the last time. I was a new bride back then. He’s a captain.”

  Anders simply smiled then.

  “You’re Captain Horner’s wife? I know him then. In fact, I work with him, regularly.” He looked side to side and then sat near her at the fire and whispered. “I can pass messages to him, using magic, if you want something sent? Don’t tell anyone else about that. He’s the only person I can send things to at the front right now, so we need to protect him from being discovered by the enemy, if we can.”

  She went still and then nodded.

  “There was something about a new position, if a temporary one. Something about passing messages along. Are you Master Brolly, then? From the sound of you in his letters, I would have thought you at least fifteen feet tall and built nearly that wide. He spoke of you having handled most of a battle on your own.” She grinned at the idea.

  Anders did too, even if it was true, after a fashion. It sounded insanely silly, to be truthful.

  “Anders Brolly. Andy for this portion of the trip. What message would you like to send, if any? I can do that at almost any time. As long as we aren’t moving. I mean
, I can sit and do it, but I can’t drive a wagon at the same time or anything like that.”

  The woman seemed ready to demure, then shook her head.

  “I should do that then. Let me plan that out? Something not too long, I promise.”

  He was willing to wait, since he was tired already, and sitting was easier than walking away, but it was clear the woman wasn’t planning to be ready until after the late meal.

  That meant he was able to go back to his own camp, and not being needed to cook that night, since Mary, Betha and Ery actually were doing a good job, he started to husk, crack and roast the large nuts he’d collected. He did stop to eat when the food was ready, with everyone else sitting, if they weren’t on guard duty.

  It was a bit delicate, getting the nuts to roast in a pan, which was settled on some hot coals, the metal lid buried in them, but he was getting the hang of it by the time that Fola came to find him. The woman smiled when she saw him, which had Mary narrow her eyes at the lady. As if she might be trying to do something inappropriate by being there.

  The woman, her red dress looking impressive in the firelight, sounded a bit cool toward the other lady.

  “May I help you?”

  Anders didn’t wait for the other woman to answer, not wanting to spread to all and sundry that he could connect with the front lines directly.

  “I have some small things to attend to with Lady Horner here. We can do that at your fire?” The one he was at was large enough, and bright, which meant he could make out her face a bit more clearly. She wasn’t as old as he’d thought, though she had gray streaks in her hair. Her face had lines at the corners of the eyes, but otherwise she seemed young enough for the trip they were on. Which was good, since Captain Horner wasn’t exactly some ancient, himself.

  Mary shook her head then.

  “I don’t think I like the idea of you coming here and running off with Andy alone. He’s only twelve. That isn’t proper.”

  Where that idea was coming from, Anders didn’t know. Farad didn’t either. It was, interestingly enough, Sir Daniel that nodded.

 

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